


Enlightenment

by ditzymax



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Food/Drink play, Multiple Orgasms, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Overstimulation, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, moments of dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13903467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditzymax/pseuds/ditzymax
Summary: Jimin is a very studious and courteous pupil who never gives you a lick of trouble in the classroom. The proverbial bedroom, however, is an entirely different arena in which he has a thing or two to teach you.





	Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings & Features: profanity; unprofessional student/professor fraternizing; graphic sexual content (cunnilingus, penetrative sex, food/drink play that is partially NOT recommended, moments of dubcon, over-stimulation and multiple orgasms, allusions to Jimin’s alleged “praise kink”)

_Why does he have to be so damn cute?_

Different variations of that thought have crossed your mind about Park Jimin every day since the moment he stepped into your classroom and claimed the desk that sits directly in the middle of the front row. He had peered up at you with curious brown eyes and a disarmingly demure smile. It was amazing the way he commandeered your attention without doing much of anything at all. It was clear from the start that he was going to be someone special to you.

Over the past three months, the soft spot in your heart for him sunk slightly deeper whenever you witnessed one of Jimin’s endearing traits. The way he blushes and sits up a little straighter in his chair each time you commend his efforts. The way he never seems to be fully satisfied with his work and consistently strives for improvement. He is a brilliant and dedicated student who turns in all assignments on time and even goes so far as to request additional lessons for extra credit.

His bookish nature sets him far apart from the majority of his peers, whose primary concerns include scoring as much sex, alcohol, and illicit substances as possible. Jimin is always amiable enough with his fellow classmates, but you’ve noticed that he seems to prefer not to interact with them. All around the university campus, you have seen him walking with his chin tucked down and his arms safely cradling the books that won’t fit into the heavy bag slung over his shoulder, always alone.

With all the time you spent studying him, it was inevitable for you to realize just how good-looking Jimin really is. His rounded, glowing cheeks just beg to be caressed. His lips are plump and inviting, and he will often sandwich his bubblegum tongue between them in moments of deep concentration. His hair always looks so soft and silky, and he is constantly alerting you of that by running his fingers through the jet black tresses habitually.

The attraction to him came on much too strong for your liking, and every day is now a constant battle to push back and suppress it as deeply as possible. He is your  _student_. You are his  _professor_. Those sorts of flings belong in television and films, not in real life. It would be totally immoral, unethical, unprofessional, and just generally ill-advised for you to sleep with him.

_And yet there is something undeniably sexy about the way he brings the end of his pen up to the corner of his mouth to bite on it thoughtfully…_

You physically shake your head to clear the mental image of taking his bottom lip between your own teeth. A grown, respectable woman such as yourself has no business entertaining thoughts like that about one of her pupils, even if they do stay stored in your mind and are never released unto the world. It’s fun to do, but what good could come from them?

At the end of class, your students all bolt for the door, glad for their long-awaited freedom.

All except one, of course.

Jimin takes his time to collect his notes and tuck them away with painstaking care. You give him a soft smile and a nod when he catches you watching him, then swiftly drop your eyes back down to the stack of papers in front of you. A tickle of his cologne in your nostrils soon makes you tilt your head back up to find him standing directly in front of your desk.

“Oh, hello Jimin,” you say pleasantly, ignoring the way your heart has begun to trip under his twinkling gaze. “Can I help you with something?”

“Sorry to bother you, Miss ___. I just wanted to ask if you will be attending the football game tonight?” Jimin cocks his head to the side in a cute display of curiosity. He smiles and continues, “I don’t usually go to those sorts of events myself, but I heard that you like to.”

Confusion contorts your face and your voice shakes a little uncertainly as you answer, “Uh, y-yeah. I try to go to as many home games as I c-can. They’re pretty fun. W-why do you ask?”

 _He’s not asking to go_ with _me, is he?_  you wonder. Surely he would not be so reckless. What a scandal  _that_ would be if the faculty and student body saw the two of you at a sporting event together. While technically school-related, that sort of outing would still be considered odd.

But he’s probably not asking you to go with him. No, surely not. You must be jumping to ridiculous conclusions and flattering yourself. The fantasies in your mind are clearly much too desperate to become reality.

Jimin shifts the bundle of belongings in his arms, and his sweet smile shifts into more of a sly smirk.

“It’s just hard to imagine a beautiful woman such as yourself spending your Friday nights watching men running around beating themselves up. I figured you’d be going out on dates. When was the last time you got laid, Miss ___?”

You sputter and choke on his bold inquiry. The date you thought he was asking you on would have been inappropriate enough, but this is on an entirely different level.

“I ha-hardly think that’s any of your b-b-business, Jimin! How dare you ah-ask me that!”

Jimin chuckles deeply and sets his things down on your desk, then braces his palms flat against its surface to lean in close to you. His raven hair swings loosely in front of his eyes before settling.

“I think the line of decency was crossed when you were checking out my ass on Wednesday, Miss ___,” he mentions in a cocky tone. “Though that wasn’t the first time you’ve done that, either. It seems you spend a  _lot_  of time staring at me.”

Blood rushes all the way from your toes to slather your face an impressive shade of scarlet. You’ve been caught, and you have no words to defend yourself. You can only open and close your mouth repeatedly like a comically dumbstruck goldfish. Thankfully, Jimin saves you the trouble of responding.

“It’s all right. I don’t mind.” He tilts his head the other way with a different connotation this time. His eyes travel down to your chest then trek back up to your face slowly. “I’ve been checking  _you_  out, too. Why do you think I sit front and center?”

 _Because you’re a good student who is eager to learn!_  is what you  _want_  to exclaim, but your voice is shyly hiding in your throat. Your heartrate is full-on sprinting under the weight of the implications of what Jimin is telling you right now.

“Jimin,” you start slowly. “I… As much as that flatters me, we can’t… can’t have this… this discussion. It’s… it’s not proper.”

“Why not?” he asks. His voice is pure, innocent concern.

“You’re my student!” you manage to blurt. “It would be so  _wrong_  for us to… to fraternize.” The heat in your cheeks intensifies - a feat you wouldn’t have believed possible - and you avert your eyes from his face as though not looking directly at him will somehow prevent him from seeing your extreme embarrassment.

“We’re two mature adults who share a mutual attraction,” Jimin says. From your peripheral vision, you see his shoulders jerk in a shrug. “We should be able to talk about that.  _Act_ on that…”

His sentence trails off and you reluctantly drag your eyes back around to meet his. He quirks a thick eyebrow upwards to disappear behind the curtain of his bangs and folds his bottom lip between his teeth, much as you had been fantasizing about doing earlier.

“No, Jimin,” you state with as much firm resolve as you can muster. “Didn’t you hear me? We couldn’t  _possibly_ -”

He has the gall to press a forefinger to your lips, effectively silencing you and also making you flinch backwards at the abrupt and unwelcome touch. His raised hand moves to cup the side of your face to prevent you from going too far. His smooth skin is warm against yours, but a succinct shiver courses through your body all the same.

“We could,” insists Jimin. His voice is very quiet now, and you wonder if it is a subconscious ploy to force you to listen carefully to his every word. He brings his other hand up to hold your other cheek. His smoldering gaze renders you powerless to move or even look away. “Look at you, quivering at my touch. I think it has been a long time since another man has touched you. Has it?”

The brazen young man speaking to you now is such a stark contrast from the dutiful little mouse you witnessed five minutes ago.

Once again, you find it impossible to formulate a response, so Jimin is left to make his own assumptions.

“I thought so,” he murmurs knowingly and nods his head once. “When was the last time someone fucked you, Miss ___? The last time someone really turned you inside out? Made you cum so hard you literally saw sparks flying behind your eyelids?”

 _Jesus H. Christ!_  screams your brain.  _The mouth on him!_  You knew he had a way with words, but in a much more class-appropriate context, not in this vulgar manner.

The blow of his unabashedly crude questions knocks a previously unspoken truth out from behind your teeth: “I’ve never had an orgasm before.”

Jimin grimaces and his raised eyebrow drops back down to meet its twin in a wrinkled line of confusion. His hands fall away from your face.

“You’ve never… had an orgasm before.” He repeats your words as more of a blunt statement than a question.

“I mean, of course I’ve had one on my  _own_ ,” you hurriedly explain. By now you are certain that your face will never return to its normal complexion. “But I’ve never had one with… with a partner before. During intercourse.”

There have only been a handful of lovers in your past, and each one of them had been as selfish in their desires as the previous one. The sex was typically enjoyable enough, but never fulfilling.

Jimin’s face relaxes at your words and another easy smile graces his lips.

“ _Intercourse_ ,” he repeats in amusement. “You’re such a scholar. Always so prim and proper. I think it would be quite the treat to play with you.” He swoops in to press his lips lightly against the shell of your ear and whispers, “And I can guarantee that with me, you would have  _fireworks_  behind your eyelids.”

Your head automatically leans towards his as if pulled by a gravitational force, searching for the forbidden physical contact you crave so much. What you don’t expect is the snap of Jimin’s teeth pinching your earlobe and the sensation of his laving tongue immediately after. You suck in a gasp and Jimin chuckles again as he withdraws.

“Think about it, Miss ___,” he implores gently. “I understand your reservations. I do. And I don’t mean to intimidate you into doing something you don’t want to. But I promise you will not regret choosing my company tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or the next night. I’m open.”

He glides his fingers through your hair near the ear he both attacked and soothed seconds ago.

“A woman like you never having had an orgasm by someone else.” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue as if disappointed. “That’s a damn shame.”

Jimin winks at you salaciously and exits the classroom, leaving you sitting frozen and shivering at your desk. After an indeterminable amount of time passes, you notice he has left his phone number on a torn piece of notebook paper on your desk, along with a short message:

_Call for a play date any time._

 

* * *

 

You were out of your mind. Absolutely nuts. Completely insane.

Downright  _depraved_.

Why else would you be standing outside of Jimin’s apartment complex right now?

There is little redemption in the way you hesitate to press the buzzer; you doubt it counts for much of anything. Especially since your finger eventually does make contact with it. At least you had enough sense of mind to sleep on Jimin’s offer rather than jumping into bed with him immediately. But that probably doesn’t count for much of anything, either, considering where you are now.

In the moments while waiting for your call to be answered, you tuck your hands back into the pockets of your coat and glance around at your surroundings. The neighborhood is very nice. Jimin’s full academic scholarship must grant him the luxury of being able to afford taking up residence away from the dorms on campus crammed full of rowdy roommates. Good for him.

“Hello?” comes Jimin’s slightly tinny voice through the intercom. You jerk back around to face it.

“Uh, hi Jimin. It’s me,” you respond weakly.

“Ah, of course.” It might be your imagination, or just the distortion of sound through the speaker, but he sounds sort of smug. “Come on up.”

The lock on the door releases with a click and you pull it open. At the fourth floor, you stop in front of the apartment number he gave you over the phone earlier: number thirteen.

There is no time for you to ruminate on how much less of a struggle it is for you to knock on the door than it was to ring the bell before Jimin is opening it and standing before you. He is dressed in an unbuttoned plaid shirt over a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of black denim jeans. He looks so good in such a simple outfit that you’re not sure if he dressed casually or dressed to impress; perhaps a little of both.

“Miss ___,” he greets you. His genuinely sweet smile compels you to return the gesture despite your nerves. “Please, come in.”

He steps back to allow you to walk past him into his home, which you do graciously. The furniture is a bit sparse and bland, but you suppose that is to be expected of a young man in his early twenties living on his own. It does seem tidy and well kept, though. You can hear soft music playing from somewhere down the hallway, perhaps in the bedroom. Just the thought of Jimin’s bedroom sets your heart fluttering like a frightened bird all over again.

 _I shouldn’t be here_ , you fret for the thousandth time.  _I can’t do this._

“May I take your coat for you?”

Jimin’s question grounds your attention back to him like a lightning rod. The small courtesy of him asking permission to remove your coat when you both know exactly what is planned for later in the evening calms you a little. You manage a nod and he slides the garment away from your shoulders and down your arms smoothly.

“You look nice this evening,” he comments gentlemanly when your simple sweater and favorite pair of blue jeans are uncovered.

“Oh, thank you,” you answer quietly, pleased by his polite compliment like some silly smitten schoolgirl.

“I have to say,” he continues as he folds your coat and goes to drape it across the back of his couch (because a coat rack is not something a young man in his early twenties would be inclined to purchase). “I was very glad to receive your call this afternoon. Though I can’t say I was surprised.”

He turns back around and grins wolfishly. His transition from kind to cocky is so effortless and so foreign to you.

You titter nervously. “I’m not really sure why I called, to be honest, Jimin. I… I still don’t think this is wise.”

Your favorite student comes back to you and takes both your hands in his. You allow him to lead you into the living room, silently thankful for his guidance when your feet feel leaden all of a sudden. Only when the two of you are seated upon the couch does he speak up again.

“Don’t overthink things. You called me because you wanted to,” Jimin states simply. “Like I said, we’re just two adults who are attracted to each other. Plus, I think I promised a show of fireworks. That’s probably what sold you.”

The right side of his mouth upends in a lopsided smirk. Another bout of nervous laughter rushes out of your mouth, then a thought pops into your head.

“The note you gave me with your phone number,” you recall. “You mentioned the word  _play_. You said it yesterday after class, too. You said it would be fun to  _play_ with me. Why that word specifically?”

“Are you really quizzing me right now, Miss ___?” His smile widens and his eyes turn to slits in his mirth.

This time your laugh is more relaxed. “There’s no right or wrong answer here. I’m just curious. It was an interesting choice of word.”

Jimin hums, crosses an ankle over his opposite knee, and drapes an arm across the back of your side of the couch as he leans back in thought.

“Well, typically I do like to toy with the people I bed,” he explains, then laughs lightly at your puzzled expression. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be frightened of. I just like to… bring out different kinks in people during sex. Test boundaries. But I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.”

You lick your lips and ask bravely, “Do you have anything in particular on tonight’s agenda?”

He hums again and leans in closely. Your vision hones in on his luscious lips, so close to your own. He brushes your hair away from your face and you mentally prepare for him to take the plunge and kiss you - unsure if you’re truly ready for him to, certain that you will be disappointed if he doesn’t - when a shrill whistling sound makes you jump and gasp in surprise.

“Oh, that’ll be the kettle,” Jimin says with a soothing touch of his fingertips to your cheek. His eyes flit across your face. “Would you like some tea, Miss ___?”

“I - uh - sure…” you say hazily. “Tea sounds… good, I guess.”

“Wonderful.”

He hops up to go to the kitchen and kill the noise. Your mind is reeling as it tries to process the abrupt change in the atmosphere. One second the two of you were about to get down to business, and the next Jimin is offering you a hot beverage. You exhale a small laugh for feeling peculiar about the situation.

He returns less than a minute later with a steaming mug in hand. He steeps the tea bag in the hot water, raising and lowering it gingerly several times, then sets it down on the coffee table.

“Aren’t you having any?” you question, eyeing the single drink.

“I thought we could share this one. But it’s still much too hot, of course,” Jimin tells you while resuming his place on the couch. “Now, where were we?”

“I was asking what your plan was for tonight,” you remind him.

“Ah, that’s right.” He reaches over and tugs on one of your earlobes in a manner that is playful, casual, and intimate all at once. “I bet you’re curious what kinks I’ll bring out in you tonight.”

“I think it’s presumptuous of you to think I have any, or that you’d even be capable of doing so,” you retort with a smirk of your own. Your comfort level is growing with each passing second. You have to admit it feels nice to be here in his cozy apartment on his comfortable sofa with his handsome self keeping you company. A new side of him may have been revealed to you, but it doesn’t mask the quick-witted, courteous young man you’ve gotten to know over the past few months.

“ _Everyone_  has their thing, Miss ___,” Jimin tells you. “You just might not know it yet. I like to think I  _enlightened_  all my previous partners a little. Much the way you as a professor enlighten your students.”

“You’re going to teach  _me_  something?” The notion is intriguing and even a little kinky to you.

“If you’ll let me.”

“Well.” You reach over and take his strong chin in your delicate, slightly trembling fingers. “I guess that’s why I’m here. For you to teach me something.  _Enlighten_ me, Jimin.”

The hitch in his breath accelerates your heartrate again, but out of excitement this time, not fear.

“Oh, you are going to be  _so_  naughty for me tonight, aren’t you?” Jimin practically purrs. He scoots closer to you and you do likewise until your noses are almost touching. His hands slide comfortably down the outline of your figure, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“I can do that,” you murmur. “As long as you give me what you promised. Please, Jimin. I just need you to give me what you said you would yesterday.”

Your desire to beg and voice your needs to him so openly surprises you, but the close proximity to him is taking its toll on the last vestiges of your better judgement.

“You needn’t worry,” Jimin assures you. “You’ll be begging me to  _stop_  making you cum by the end of the night. All I need from you is the green light, Miss ___.”

You smile at his flirty chivalry. Smart, sexy,  _and_  sweet; what a delightfully sinful combination. You’ve made up your mind - you came here for the mind-shattering orgasm he promised, and you’re not leaving without it.

“Please, Jimin,” you whisper. “Make me cum.”

Jimin throws you one more smirk and says, “Well, those are the magic words.”

With that, he takes you by the waist and pulls you straight onto his lap. Your squeal of surprise is muffled by the cushion of his lips pressing directly against yours. The subsequent moan emitted from your throat makes Jimin part his lips to gobble it up. His tongue dips into your mouth to get acquainted with yours in a dance. He tastes like risk and candy. The neediness within you is made more evident the longer the passionate kiss is drawn out. The clash of teeth and tongues, coupled with the flurry of fingers - both yours and his - moving over each other’s bodies feverishly, serves to build the heat in the pit of your stomach to a burning roar that will not be ignored.

The seal of your mouths is broken only by the need to breathe again. Somehow your hands are clutched tightly against the flaps of his open shirt, but you have no recollection of having moved them there. Jimin’s own hands are searching along the hem of your sweater. His fingers dip beneath it to tease the bare skin of your stomach.

“Can I?” is all he asks, and you grant permission with a wordless nod.

Jimin tugs the sweater up and over your head and tosses it away. His eyes snap straight to your bosom, and you know instantly that your choice of brassiere for tonight was the correct one. A crimson, racy little number that lifts and accentuates your breasts in a way you always thought was perfect, and Jimin’s stare confirms it.

“Wow,” he breathes. He tries to elaborate, but words seem to fail him.

“Why don’t you get my bra off so you can get an even better look?” you suggest coyly.

Jimin smiles and obliges, unhooking the clasp deftly and letting the lingerie fall to your lap. You sling it aside and study his face as he surveys the fleshy mounds he has uncovered.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers. His hands reach out to gently tweak both of your pert nipples at once, and you sigh softly at the sting of pleasure. You move your fingers to thread through his soft hair and find the feel of it so appealing that you bring your other hand up to do the same.

Jimin leans in and replaces his fingers with his plush lips to suck on one of your stiffened peaks, and your hands tighten against his scalp. He flicks his tongue sensually before moving on to your other nipple, making sure to give it fair treatment. At the same time, he begins gyrating his hips beneath yours to grind your crotches against each other. He meets your moans of appreciation with grunts of his own.

“That feels so good, Jimin,” you murmur. His eyes snap up to meet yours and he smiles around the nipple in his mouth, pleased by your enjoyment.

“Can I make a mark?” he asks you next. “God, I want to mark your skin so badly…”

You pause in a moment of hesitation, but deem the action acceptable. It’s hard to deny him when he is so anxious to please.

“Do it, Jimin. Leave some pretty marks for me to look at all week.”

His lips immediately form a tight seal just above the areola of your left breast to suck on it purposefully. The bruise he forms is painful but his hot mouth on your skin is too delicious for you to mind. It has been a while since anyone has paid this much attention to your chest, and you are welcoming it. In fact, you are enjoying it so much that you whine pathetically when Jimin moves away. But he soon reconnects to create a twin on the other side, then pulls away to admire his handiwork.

“Beautiful,” he reaffirms quietly.

You look down and agree that the swirls of red and purple are pleasing to look upon. Jimin traces them softly before trailing his fingers down to the waistband of your jeans. Only then do you notice just how damp your panties have become.

“Please,” you beg him vaguely.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

 _Goddamn tease_ , you grumble to yourself. Out loud you say, “Please, Jimin, I want you to take my pants off.”

“I’d be happy to, Miss ___,” he chirps with the same tone of voice he would use in the classroom as if you had asked him to share his opinion on a subject matter with the rest of the class. The thought makes you cringe inwardly, and again you wonder if this is all going to end up being a huge mess of a mistake.

But then he is guiding you to stand up so he can open your jeans and peel them down your legs, and you set aside your worries as you kick your clothing away.

Once they are bare, Jimin drags his fingertips up your inner calves and thighs ever so lightly. He pauses when he comes to the red g-string that matches your bra, and a low groan rumbles in his chest.

“How did you know red underwear is my favorite?” He smiles up at you naughtily.

You grin back. “Just a guess. I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s a shame I don’t feel like looking at it anymore,” he sighs as if regretful. He yanks the skimpy cloth straight down to your ankles and you fling it away with your foot.

Jimin places his hands on your hips and pulls you in close enough for him to press soft, warm kisses along your stomach. You return your hands to their previous place in his hair to steady yourself when your knees become weak from his ministrations. It doesn’t take long for his grip to migrate to your ass with a firm squeeze. His thumbs circle around to your front, stretching towards the treasure between your legs, and you feel the walls of your pussy twitch in anticipation.

“Miss ___?” He peppers a few more tender kisses along your hip bones.

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I think that tea is ready now.”

“Wha-what?”

Surely you misunderstood what he just said to you.

Instead of repeating himself, Jimin merely pulls you back down by your wrists to take his place on the couch cushion, either unfazed by or unaware of the wet spot you’ll create the moment you sit.

Once you have switched places, he goes to pick up the mug from the table. He lifts the tea bag up and intentionally lets it drip directly onto his wrist, then nods to himself.

 _An odd way to test the temperature_ , you wonder, but mostly you are still perplexed as to why he is more interested in drinking tea than having you naked and buzzing with need on his couch right now.

“If it’s all right with you, I’d very much like to play with you now, Miss ___… using this tea,” says Jimin, returning his attention to its proper place on you.

Your eyebrows furrow deeply. “I don’t understand.”

“May I show you?”

There is no clue as to his train of thought that can be found on his face as far as you can tell, which makes you nervous.

“Uh, yeah… I suppose so…” you say apprehensively.

“Lie back,” Jimin instructs. “Scoot your ass over the edge of the couch and spread your legs for me, please.”

Timidly, you do as he says, and he comes to stand between your open thighs, the tea bag still dangling in his fingers. He swings it away from the mug and lets the excess moisture seep down onto your torso. You hiss at the bite of the heat, surprised by just how hot it still is. It feels like you have been here for hours already.

“Ow. Jimin, what-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jimin soothes. He kneels on the ground between your knees and keeps his gaze fixed on yours while the tea bag steadily drips onto your bare skin. “It’s not my intention to hurt you. Just play with you, like I said. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

He dunks the tea bag back into the brewed water then brings it back out to douse you again, this time on your lower belly. The splash is larger and hotter this time and you wince at the sensation. It’s unusual but not entirely unpleasant. The liquid trails down towards your mound, but Jimin leans forward and stops its progress with his tongue. He licks a long stripe all the way up to the middle of your breastplate, all the while keeping his eyes trained on your face.

“You taste so good, Miss ___,” he comments with an impish grin.

The situation is strange, but you can’t help but smile back at him. “I think it’s the tea you’re tasting, not me,” you point out.

“It’s both,” Jimin counters. Again, he lowers the bag into the mug, then sloughs the drippings onto your breasts, only to lap it up with a thirsty moan.

Rinse and repeat.

This is by far the most intimate and (strangely) erotic moment of your life. You groan and sigh at the onslaught of new and fantastic sensations assaulting both your body and your mind. Right now, you are not a professor taking advantage of a willing student. Right now, you are a woman being taken to a blissful high by a gorgeous, highly sexual man.

Jimin’s blazing tongue rides along the bottoms of your breasts, visits with your nipples again, then heads northbound towards your collarbone. He nips his teeth against the tender flesh of your neck to draw a gasp from you.

“Can I try something else, Miss ___?” Jimin inquires a bit hoarsely. He must be relishing this play time.

“Y-yes,” you rasp. Your own voice sounds a little worse for wear as well.

Without warning, you feel Jimin’s fingers part the lips of your vagina and plunge inside you. But there is something else, too. A wetness that is not yours.

_There’s no way he just…_

But before the thought can fully manifest in your startled brain, Jimin twists his hand with a flick of his wrist and removes the tea bag from your cunt with a mischievous smile. Speechless, you watch as he steeps it back into the water in the mug, brings the mug to his mouth, and sips from it delicately.

“You taste so,  _so_  good,” he reiterates with a lick of his lips. He offers the cup to you and says, “Try it.”

His tone brooks no room for you to decline, so you sit up a little and allow him to tilt the drink into your mouth. The tangy chai tickles your tastebuds first, but you notice something musky laced beneath it that can only be your own essence. You hum in recognition of it.

You take it back -  _this_  is the most intimate and strangely erotic moment of your life.

“Good girl.” Jimin beams at you and finishes the rest of the tea in four deep swallows. He swipes the back of his hand across his lips and sets the mug back on the table behind him. When he turns back around, he hoists your legs up and places your calves on either of his shoulders.

“Now I’m going to drink from this pretty pussy of yours, and I’m not going to stop until you cum,” he proclaims. “I might not even stop then. I might just keep going until you beg me to stop.”

“Please, Jimin,” you plead again. “Do whatever you want, just make me cum. Please.”

His lips press against your puffy lower ones without another moment of hesitation. He presses soft kisses against the petals. The gesture might be considered chaste if not for the obscene location to which he is attending.

Just as you are about to scold him for teasing, he digs his tongue into your soaked cavern as deep as he can shove it. You toss your head back and release a wanton moan. Jimin hooks his arms around your legs and you move your fingers to their new favorite place of buried in his hair.

“Oh fuck, fuck,  _fuck_ ,” you breathe, too overcome for anything more eloquent.

But it is poetry to Jimin’s ears. The greatest compliment he could receive. He moans in satisfaction at unraveling you, and the vibration of the sound ripples throughout your entire body.

“Has no one ever eaten you before, Miss ___?” Jimin asks between determined thrusts of his tongue.

“A f-few times,” you choke out.

“But not well enough to make you cum?”

“N-no. Jimin, please keep going.”

He draws lines along the length of your slit between every few words he speaks to you. “Anyone who wouldn’t - eat this pussy - until you came - is an idiot. You are - fucking delicious,” he says brokenly. He pulls back and looks up at you. “I chose the chai tea because I wanted to make you spicy, but you’re already spicy enough.”

Your frustrated response transforms to a strangled cry when Jimin lowers his face again and wraps his lips directly over your throbbing clit. A pulse of electricity surges through you from the tips of your fingers to the ends of your toes in one long current. After only a dozen skillful flicks of his tongue, you are perilously close to the edge.

“I’m almost there, Jimin,” you encourage him. “Jesus, you’re so good with your mouth.”

“Yeah? Better than your other lovers?”

“Yes, yes!” you whimper. “No one’s ever given me better head than you.”

He grunts in acknowledgement.

“And no one ever will,” Jimin promises. “Now cum for me. Cum all over my tongue.”

A few more brushes over your bundle of nerves and your back is arching off the couch, toes curled, body tense, breath suspended as your orgasm rips its way through you. Maybe there are a few sparks dancing across the backs of your eyelids at the height of your release, but all you can focus on is the all-consuming satisfaction of being sated after a long drought.

A high-pitched whine leaves you when the feel of his tongue becomes too much to bear. All you want is to bask in the glow of finally having been taken over the edge by someone other than yourself, but Jimin is relentless.

“Oh God, Jimin. I’m so sensitive…”

“I want to keep going,” he grunts back. “I know you can handle it.”

He slips a finger inside your dripping hole and curls it repeatedly to the rhythm of his tongue dancing on your clit. You squirm uncomfortably at both the overstimulation and the feel of his finger inside you. The dull points of tongues and cocks were always your preference; fingernails can be too sharp. But the stretch of Jimin’s second digit has you positively teeming with lust.

“You are so tight around my fingers, Miss ___,” observes Jimin, sounding awed. “Are you even going to be able to take my dick?”

“Only if you keep me this wet,” you say with a breathless laugh.

And he does. A second climax is pulled from you at the beckon of Jimin’s nimble fingers and tongue. It doesn’t peak as high as the first, but still leaves you quivering and blissful. This time Jimin mercifully removes himself from your abused clit and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand again.

“That… was incredible,” you tell him earnestly.

“Fireworks?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

You giggle lightly. “Close.”

“Well, ‘close’ won’t do at all,” he tsks. He stands and extends a hand to you. “Why don’t we move to the bedroom now? Play time is over.”

You agree and he helps you up from the couch. Jimin makes you lead the way with a slap to your ass.

“Last door on the right, baby,” he says.

“'Baby’? What happened to 'Miss ___’?” you tease, smiling at him from over your shoulder as you both tread down the hallway.

“I just licked tea off your  _perfect_  fucking body, stuck a tea bag up your twat, then made you cum two times within five minutes of each other. Wouldn’t you agree that I can probably drop the formalities? At least for the rest of the night?” His eyes are fixed on the jiggling flesh of your buttocks as he says all this. 

“I suppose you can,” you giggle.

“Damn right. Now get your fine ass in my bed,  _baby_.” Jimin reaches out and smacks one of your ass cheeks again, spurring you to move faster.

When you turn in to the bedroom, the music you suspected you heard earlier is gone, but Jimin quickly ammends that with a few button presses on his cell phone on the dresser.

“Is this okay?” he asks you.

“It’s fine,” you answer hastily. “More importantly: why are you still dressed?”

He smirks and chuckles. “Eager, are we? Come here and undress me then.”

Jimin allows you to tug both of his shirts away from his body and discard them carelessly to the floor. Just as he had been transfixed by the sight of your bare chest earlier, you are equally as enraptured by the muscular angles of his pecs and abs. You had no idea he was built like this. With a mind of their own, your fingers trace the chiseled lines of his stomach, trying to memorize the exact shape and feel of them because they’re not sure if they will ever be able to touch him in this fashion again.

“Like what you see?” Jimin’s husky voice snaps you out of your reverie.

“You… You’re pretty beautiful yourself, Jimin,” you say honestly. You look up at his face and see him smiling widely at your compliment.

You smile back and hasten to undo his belt next, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Go lie on the bed and touch your pussy,” he instructs. “Make sure it’s still nice and wet for me.”

You pout but do as he says, sprawling against his comforter and spreading your knees apart to give him another full view of your pink center. Jimin scrupulously watches your every movement while he unbuckles his belt and drags down the zipper of his pants. The act of you shallowly dipping two of your fingers into your sopping cunt makes him growl and speed up the process of undressing. He shakes out of his jeans and boxers hurriedly, finally treating you to the sight of the turgid appendage between his sinewy legs. How he managed to keep it restrained for this long is beyond you.

The sound of your lustful moan at his nude form makes Jimin snicker.

“Like what you see?” he asks again. He wraps a fist around his dick to stroke it tantalizingly.

“I’ll like it a lot more when it’s inside me,” you quip.

“So, so needy,” Jimin remarks. He’s teasing you again, but he sounds quite pleased.

He stalks forward like a panther on the legs of a God while looking like sin incarnate. Even now, you know you should not be letting him climb over you and pin you to the mattress with a heated kiss to your lips, but at the same time you’re also kicking yourself for not getting into this exact situation sooner. Jimin’s hot, stony member pulses against your thigh as he wraps you up in his strong arms to cradle you like a doll.

_Yes, you definitely should have let this happen sooner._

“Jimin, please,” you pant against his mouth. You’ve lost count of how many times you have had to beg tonight.

“Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs against a sensitive place on your neck. His sharp tongue slithers up and down your skin to paint invisible patterns. The wetness he leaves behind magically duplicates between your legs. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything you want. You just have to tell me.”

You swallow hard and whisper, “Fuck me. Now.”

“Gladly.”

Jimin leans away from you to slide open the drawer of his bedside table and paw through it. He finds what he is searching for and pulls it out. The golden foil packet crinkles in his fingers as he tears it open to remove the condom inside. As you watch him roll it securely over his girthy length, you lament not getting the chance to give his dick the attention it deserves. You’ve cum twice already and have barely even touched Jimin in return. The guilt of it makes you push against his shoulders, but of course his solid, muscular mass does not budge.

“What’s wrong, Miss ___?” Jimin asks with a cocked eyebrow. His worry makes him revert back to addressing you formally.

“I just want to get you on your back,” you urge. “Let me ride you. I’ve done nothing for you all evening.”

Jimin grins widely at your suggestion. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve imagined you sitting on my dick. Come here…”

He rolls aside and pulls you with him until you are lying on top of him. You prop yourself up with your hands on his marble chest and grind your core against his hardness.

“I can feel how slippery you still are, baby,” Jimin comments from under you. He grabs your hips and helps you rock back and forth. “You’re making a mess all over me.”

“You’re the one who made  _me_  so messy,” you say without complaint.

With that, you lift yourself up just enough to position the head of his covered cock at your entrance and sink down onto it slowly. Whatever he was going to say in reply evaporates in a huff as he closes his eyes and bucks up into your delicious heat. When he is fully sheathed inside you, you lean back and grab your ankles, a moan of pure bliss passing your lips. The stretch of his cock is so satisfying you feel as though you would be happy to keep this seat forever.

“ _Yes_ , baby,” groans Jimin. “I can see all of your gorgeous body like this. God, you’re fucking perfect.”

That’s funny - you could have sworn 'perfect’ was the view of the sculpted expanse of his naked body vibrating beneath you with desire.

You smirk and roll your hips experimentally. The column of flesh within you grazes against your deepest recesses, places that have not been plumbed in months. Your body quivers and you hunch forward under the magnitude of your yearning. You go to brace your palms against Jimin’s shoulders, but he catches your hands with his and laces his fingers between yours. The gesture is sweet and tender, but his next words are far from it.

“Fuck yourself on my dick, baby,” he grunts. “I need to feel you cum on my dick.”

_And so do you._

Without wasting another second, you lift up a few inches - using your clasped hands as leverage - and drop back down onto his lap. His thighs tense to become hard as steel beneath the flesh of your ass. Twin lascivious moans ricochet off the walls and ring throughout the room. Your pussy clenches repeatedly around his penis lodged within you.

“Ungh. Don’t squeeze, baby,” groans Jimin. “You’re already so tight around me. So warm and tight… Fuck, you feel so good.”

You want to contribute to the dirty talk since it is turning you on so much, but you can’t fit any words between the whines and whimpers your vocal chords are churning out. It doesn’t bother Jimin in the least. He spews enough curses and filthy encouragements for the both of you as you bounce steadily against him.

“Mmm. Fuck, you’re so good at riding cock, baby. I knew you would be.  _Ah, shit!_  I knew a woman as hot as you would be able to take dick like a pro. Look at your tits bounce. Such perfect titties you have. I remem-  _nnghh_  - I remember that day you wore that t-tight white blouse. It was already practically see through, and you had too many buttons undone. All through class, the only thing I could think about was c-cumming all over your perfect titties.  _God_ , I jacked off to you s-so hard that night.”

His confession emboldens you to make one of your own.

“I’ve thought about you while t-touching myself, t-too, Jimin. On m-more nights than I can remember.”

Jimin’s chest visibly swells with the pride that fills it.

“Yeah?” he pants. “That’s so f-fucking hot. Why don’t you touch yourself for me now? Sh-show me.”

But instead of releasing you so you can perform the task he has just given you, he guides one of the hands still clutched in his directly to your clit and helps you to finger yourself. He said he wanted to see you do this, but he keeps his eyes locked on yours. His intense stare flusters you, but the circles his thumb are helping your forefinger press into your sensitive swollen bud are more important than your embarrassment. The whole while, you continue rocking and riding against him, meshing your pelvises together for added friction, and Jimin keeps his thrusts in time with your rhythm. The coil in your lower stomach is pulling impossibly taut as you approach yet another orgasm.

“Oh God, Jimin!” you keen. “I’m- Fuck, I’m gonna… I-I…”

Jimin drops his hand away from between your legs and lets go of your other one as well. He slides his grip to your thighs instead to help keep you moving.

“That’s it, baby,” he purrs. “I can feel you getting even tighter. Cum all over me. Do it now.”

It’s not in you to deny him anything anymore, least of all this. With a toss of your head and a desperate cry of euphoria, your body seizes and a third climax bursts through you. The flashes of light within your closed eyelids are blinding. Your hands reach to clutch the sheets to tether yourself to the plane of reality, but instead of coming away with fistfuls of cotton, it’s Jimin’s hands there to meet you again.

Before your pleasurable twitching has fully subsided, Jimin flips you back over and begins pounding you into the mattress. He pins your hands above your head with a painfully tight grasp and molds himself against you as he fucks you with abandon. The frantic rutting is a clear sign of how far gone he is while searching for his own long-awaited release. Your abused and entirely-too-sensitive pussy is stimulated to a surprising  _fourth_  orgasm from the battering his wide cockhead is unleashing directly on your g-spot.

And still, Jimin continues to thrust.

“Jimin,” you whine, voice pitched an octave higher than normal. “Jimin, please, I can’t…”

“Whose tongue and fingers made you cum twice tonight, baby?” he growls through his onslaught, his face leaning into your chest as he breathes heavily.

“Y-yours.”

“And whose dick just made you cum twice more?”

“You- Oh,  _God_ , Jimin. It was yours,  _yours_! Please cum for me, Jimin. I can’t take anymore…”

“Didn’t I tell you that you would be begging me to stop?” He pulls back just far enough to make sure you see the smirk on his lips.

“Yes, yes!” is your frantic answer.

“Has anyone ever made you feel as good as I have?”

“No… Oh my God, no.”

“That’s right, gorgeous. Tell me: who is the only one who can fuck your pussy like this?”

It is getting harder and harder to find enough air to answer his questions.

“Only you,” you choke out.

“Who?”

“You!”

“Say my name, baby.”

“You, Jimin!” you shriek with all the volume left in your voice.

The possibility of passing out from too much pleasure is very real to you by now. And just when you are sure it is an inevitability, Jimin gives an animalistic shout to announce his end. The sight of him in this state of rapture - cheeks flushed pink from exertion, the fringe of his black hair sticky with sweat, body heaving and quaking as his cock discharges his hot load into the sheath of latex surrounding it - is one you are certain will be etched in your mind for a long, long time. Your tired pussy gives one last squeeze to help milk his cock of everything it has to offer.

When it is over, Jimin rolls away gingerly so as not to crush you, and quickly goes to dispose of the used condom. He returns with a water bottle in hand to find you lying in the exact same position, too content and exhausted to move. He smiles as he nudges you aside to sit beside you and offer you the drink. You hoist yourself up to lean against the headboard and accept it gratefully.

“Well, we should have done this  _months_  ago,” he says while watching you pull down big gulps of water.

You laugh and hand the bottle back to him. “I have to say, you really did 'enlighten’ me,” you admit. “Tonight was pretty incredible, to say the least.”

“ _Was_?” he questions after a swig. “Who says it’s over?”

“Jimin, you made me cum  _four times_! I hardly think I can go again,” you exclaim in disbelief, eyes threatening to bulge out of your skull.

Jimin dots soft kisses along your shoulder and collarbone. “But we still have the whole rest of the weekend, Miss ___. And there are years of missed orgasms to make up for. I’m up for the challenge if you are.”

This statement has you calculating how many more orgasms - and kinks - Jimin can possibly draw from you in the next thirty-some-odd hours.

You might have to start a tally.

 

* * *

 

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